


An Avengers Christmakah.

by WinterTheWriter



Series: Building Happily Ever After [15]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Chanukah, Christmas, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Tropes, holiday party, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: The holidays are here and everyone, for once, has a good time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! This update was almost late but I technically have 6 minutes until it's Tuesday so HA! Ahem. I hope you all enjoyed your respective holidays. And, if you're Jewish like me, I hope you're /still/ enjoying Chanukah. May your latkes be fluffy and your dreidels spinny. 
> 
> (PS: I made Natasha Jewish because I am the God of this universe so there.) 
> 
> Enjoy, and Chanukah-tov, merry Christmas, happy Kwanzaa, happy Solstice, etc, etc, etc.

“OOOOOOOOOOH, ChanukahohCHANukah come light the menORah, let’s have a PARTy we’ll all dance the HORa, gather ‘round the ta—.” Bruce slaps a hand over Tony’s mouth to stop the drunken singing and everyone collectively sighs in relief. Natasha flashes him a grateful look as she finishes lighting the second candle before putting the Shamesh back in its place. The Avengers, crowded around the kitchen island, all respectfully bow their heads in silence as she quietly sing-speaks the prayers. When she’s done, she opens her eyes and looks around at everyone.

“Thanks for humoring me, guys. I’m the farthest thing from ‘practicing’ anymore, but this,” she glances back at the menorah with a wistful smile, “reminds me of home. My /first/ home.” 

“It’s our pleasure, Nat. Thank /you/ for letting us witness this. It was beautiful,” Steve smiles. Koschei clears his throat and steps forward. He pulls out the small box he’s been holding behind his back, holding it out for her. She takes it hesitantly, raising her eyebrows in happy surprise. 

“All Earth religions are a mystery to me, but I did some research on Judaism when I heard we’d be doing this. I believe it is customary to give gifts after the prayers,” Koschei explains. 

“To /children/, yes,” she chuckles wryly, turning the box over in her hands. “But thank you, Koschei.” 

“Not just me. We all pitched in.” 

“…Aren’t we doing the gift exchange after this?” Still, as she speaks, she starts to rip open the wrapping paper. Everyone seems to lean in a bit to get her reaction, excitement almost tangible in the air. Natasha pulls out a beautiful twisted bronze picture frame with floral detail that mimics Russian architecture, and held securely in place behind its glass, a yellowed but clear photograph of two parents and their little girl. She inhales sharply and slaps a hand over her mouth and when she speaks again, her voice is full of happy disbelief and teary as she looks around the room. “How…how did you /possibly/ find this? I haven’t seen this since I was thirteen.” 

“I did some…snooping,” Koschei says. “Clint told me where to look.”

“And then I found the coordinates of that place,” Tony grins.

“I took down their security footage.” Clint kisses her temple. 

“I snuck in, with Bruce,” laughs Steve. 

“And when we were back, I called a guy I know to touch it up,” Bruce adds. 

“Annnd I wrapped it, because y’all can’t wrap for shit,” Sam finishes. Everyone murmurs their agreement, nodding. “…So, do you like it?” 

Natasha’s response is to choke out a sob and bury her face into Clint’s shoulder, the picture frame clutched to her chest. Everyone “awww’s” and crowds around in an awkward group-hug until Tony complains. 

The Chanukah candles flicker happily behind them. 

~

They don’t have a tree. They would’ve gotten a tree but in the end, everyone agreed it would be a huge pain in the ass to get a tree, and so they did not, in fact, get a tree. What they did do is put a party hat on a turned-off Iron Man suit and put a scarf of tinsel around its shoulders, and that seems like the epitome of an Avengers Christmas Tree, so it works just fine. A fire burns and crackles in the fireplace and everyone sits on the ground, passing around bottles of wine and champagne and plates of cheese and meat, just little snacks, because they also agreed that cooking a huge Christmas dinner would also be a huge pain in the ass. 

They didn’t even change out of their PJs. 

Steve waits until everyone is situated before calling everyone’s attention, standing up by the Iron Tree. “Alright, I’m gonna pass out everyone’s gifts now. Let’s indulge our materialism a little bit, huh?” The rest of the team whoops and cheers and Koschei pours himself more wine with a laugh, The Little Drummer Boy playing softly in the background. Everyone gets at least one gift from everyone, the huge pile of boxes that once surrounded the Iron Tree only disappearing after a solid ten minutes. Steve sits back down next to Koschei and plants a big wet kiss on his cheek, and then, for another solid ten minutes, the only sounds are from everyone ripping open their gifts. 

Koschei blocks them out and scoots closer to Steve, moving to face him. He takes Steve’s present from him before Steve can open it, only to hand it back to him himself with a small smile. “Wanted to give it to you,” he explains. Steve grins and leans forward, kissing the tip of Koschei’s nose and making him wrinkle it. 

“You’re adorable, you know.” 

“Shush. Open it.” Getting this present took a lot of work and probably broke a few time-travel laws. Koschei doesn’t care. It’ll be worth it. With careful fingers, Steve peels away the wrapping paper and tilts his head at what he sees. 

“This is…one of my drawings. You framed it for me?” He smiles softly at Koschei, but Koschei just shakes his head. 

“Take it out of the frame and turn it over.” 

Steve does and at first he looks confused. There’s black, inky writing on the back of it, like it was done by a paintbrush. “‘Dear Steve,’” he reads, “‘This drawing is by far one of the best I’ve seen. Talent like yours is impossible to come by. Never give up. Never stop being the artist you are. Koschei is a very lucky man. All my love,’— Koschei. You…”

“Go on. Read the signature. It’s real, I promise you.” 

“‘All my love, Vincent Van Gogh.’” Steve’s eyes are shining with tears but they’re wide with awe, his mouth agape as he stares at the letter and rereads it over and over. “You got me…you went /back in time/ just to…” 

“You’ve done so much for me, my love. You’ve made me believe I’m capable of being /good/, and you have no idea how much that means to me. I know he’s your favorite, and I’ve, well, I’ve met him before. I just wanted to repay you, /somehow/, for all you’ve given me.” After carefully reframing the note, this time with it facing out, Steve sets it aside and pulls Koschei into a bone-crushing hug, mumbling “thank you” over and over again into his ear. Koschei laughs and hugs him back, face pressed into his shoulder. 

When Steve pulls back, he’s beaming widely, and he cups Koschei’s cheeks in his hands. “You have nothing to repay me for, though. I love you /so much./ It’s my privilege to get to do that. You’ve saved me in so many ways, Kosch, you don’t even know.” Koschei grins at him and turns his head to kiss the heel of Steve’s palm. Steve pecks his lips once, twice, and then pulls back, dropping his hands from Koschei’s cheeks to hand him his present. “It’s not gonna be as impressive as what you gave me, but…,” he trails off, blushing a little.

“Darling, I’ll love anything you give me,” Koschei assures him. “Unless it sucks, of course. In which case, I’m leaving you and Bruce and I will get hitched. Right, Bruce?” From across the room, Bruce yells back, “YUP!” before reaching for his glass of wine. Steve flips both of them off with a laugh. “Don’t pretend you’re not curious about his jolly green giant,” Koschei flirts. Behind him, Tony chokes on his champagne and pretends to start crying and it takes everyone a few minutes to stop laughing. 

Finally, Koschei undoes the wrapping of his present and opens it up. “It seems the theme of this year is framed pictures,” Steve mumbles apologetically. “But I promise it’s not intentional. I just thought this seemed…right.” There, nestled in a beautiful ivory frame, is a stunning, vibrant watercolor of their view of the sunrise from the top of the tower. “This is what the sky looked like when we had our first kiss. When you finally trusted me enough to let me in. When I truly realized the depth of how much I loved you for the first time.” 

“It’s…magnificent,” Koschei murmurs absently, letting the tips of his fingers gently trace the paper. He looks up at Steve, smiling. “We had our huge fight two days after this.” 

“So? All worked out in the end, didn’t it?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, it did. I love this. I love it. I love /you/.” Koschei leans forward and kisses Steve softly, smiling into it before pulling back and inspecting the painting closer. “Thank you, Steve. Thank you.” 

~

After their little gathering is over, everyone collects their gifts and returns to their respective rooms. Koschei carries all of his gifts in their bags save for Steve’s — that one he holds in his hand, glancing at it every few steps. He’s about to walk into their room when Steve suddenly clears his throat and stops him dead in his tracks. “Is something wrong, love?” Koschei asks, turning to look at him. 

“You were about to walk through that doorway.”

“…Yes, yes I was.” 

“You can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“/Because/…,” Steve pauses for dramatic effect, making himself look serious as he pulls out a sprig of mistletoe from his back pocket and holds it over their heads. “First, you must honor the ancient Christmas tradition.” Biting back a laugh, Koschei nods faux-importantly and steps closer to him, leaning up on his tip-toes. 

“My apologies,” he mumbles, wrapping his only free arm around Steve’s neck to pull him down. “Merry Christmakah, Steve.” 

“Merry Christmakah, doll.”

For four beats, they kiss.


End file.
